Salon Party II

Him:  Hey.  It’s you again.

Me:  That’s right.  How has the party been?

Him: Great.  It was great.  You guys are great.

Me:  Great.  That’s great.  So great.

Him:  You’re an ass.

Me:  I am.

marcos sanchez

Him:  Sorry that was meant to be a joke.  I meant to say, you have a nice ass.

Me:  Thank you. I suppose everyone has seen it.

Him:  That might be accurate.  Good job keeping it in your shorts.

Me:  So far.

Him:  So far?

Me:  The night’s not over.  If I think I can get these homos to run around in their underwear, I might just do it.

Him:  Really?

Me:  I mean.  Yeah.  I like when people act free.

Him:  Okay.

dan paul roberts

adam gardiner’s spoken word

(I touch his hair)

Me:  You have amazing hair.

Him:  Ha.  Well now you say that?

Me:  Yes.  Now I say it.

Him:  You were just hitting on the guy sitting next to me!

Me:  Yeah I was.  Not really though.  But yeah.  Kind of.

Him:  Which is it?

Me:  I flirt with everyone.  I like affection.  So I give a lot of it away, hoping the world will respond in kind.

paolo raymundo

robbie and jeffrey

Him:  Hm…

Me:  I doesn’t always mean I want to doink a guy, just cause i play with his earlobes at a party.

(I touch his ear lobes)

Him:  Now you’re really an ass.

Me:  You’re probably right.  I won’t argue.

Him:  Good. 

Me:  I do my best.

Him:  You succeed.

stephen slate

Me:  What do you succeed at?

Him:  I work in fashion.  But the low end of it, not the high end.  Think closer to Target than Gucci.

Me:  These are KMart shoes.

(pause)

Him:  Lovely.

Me:  Thanks.  Don’t be blinded by the glamor.

Him:  Do my best.  Hey, are those fake glasses?

Me:  Yes.

Him:  Why do you wear them?

Me:  I don’t know.  I started wearing them and then it became a point of controversy somehow, with some online losers, and I kind of refused to back off of it.

Him:  It does seem inauthentic, somehow, no?

Me:  Maybe.  But, I don’t really like people telling me what I should do, especially if it’s something trivial like a pair of glasses.  Especially internet strangers.  Also, I think they look cute.

Him:  Do you know what you should do?

Me:  Please tell me.  I love when strangers tell me what I should be doing.

Him:  You should get a pair of glasses that are more expensive looking, to add an air of authenticity. 

(long pause)

Me:  HAHAHAHAHA!!  I like that.  I like that a lot.

Him:  Really?  What did I say?

Me:  You’re in the fashion industry – low end – and you challenge my authenticity.  First of all, that’s funny.  Then, your solution to my problem of being inauthentic is to appear more authentic.  I love that your advice wasn’t how to be more authentic, but rather to seem more authentic to other people, so as not to provoke their criticism.

Him:  You love that advice?

Me:  Yeah.  It tickled me.  I loved it.  Says a lot about you.

Him:  Does it?

Me:  I think so.  Says you value the appearance of authenticity, for sure.

Him:  Ugh.  No.  Not this.

Me:  Haha – what?

Him:  This isn’t the conversation I’m having right now.  It’s Saturday night.

Me:  Back to giving me unsolicited fashion and branding advice?

Him:  You’re hard to handle, huh?

Me:  It’s hard being attracted to someone who’s annoying you.

Him:  How did you know what I was thinking?

Me:  I didn’t.  I was thinking that about you.

Him:  What did I do that was annoying??

Me:  Do you remember earlier when you covered my mouth?

Him:  It sounded like you were going somewhere bad with what you were saying.

Me:  I was talking about oppressed minorities.   I said “All oppressed minorities – Asians, Blacks, Gays,” and then you covered my mouth.  Remember?

Him:  There were black people listening.

Me:  Yes.  I know.  I was aware of that.

Him:  It sounded like you were going somewhere bad.

Me:  I wasn’t.   I was talking about how we form communities.

Him:  Well I covered your mouth.

Me:  I know.  I registered that.  I thought, hey, this guy is doing one of the most condescending things possible right now.  Also, he’s super hot.

Him:  Well.  Sorry.  And thank you.

Me:  Eh.  It’s a party.  People are going to act weird.  Didn’t you see me running around in an apron singing songs?

Him:  Very true.  Hey.  I think I might be able to take you on one of those awkward dates sometime.

Me:  I think you’re right.

Him:  I’m great at awkward.

Me:  I’m great at self defeating behavior.  We could really fuck this date up, kiddo.  Let’s do it!

Him:  Okay.  You’re on.  One awkward date.

Me:  You have no idea what you’re in for.

Salon Party Part One

allison michael orenstein

Ack!  The dollar store was out of mini-pie tins!

What’s a guy supposed to do??

Well, we bought disposable four cup muffin tins, and cut them down with scissors.

Ghetto style?  You bet.

That’s Chuhan.  He’s a real sweet kid from Atlanta.

He’s new to the whole Gay thing and we’re doing our best to try to socialize him.

He’s got a bright spirit and a kind heart.

He loves to eat bacon.  I had to stop him from eating all my quiche filling.

That’s Clayton.  He came over to help us out.

We had 40 pies to make for as many hungry homos.

Clayton is gaining popularity as a DJ in New York City.

He works at The Ritz and other venues.

Clayton and I had a fun time harassing Chuhan.

We don’t do it on purpose, but Chu has this way about him.

He invites abuse.  Not domestic abuse.  Casual ribbing and teasing.

But if he doesn’t start listening, I’m going to hit him in the face.

You know, so he knows I care.

Guys.  It’s a damn heat wave.

I don’t have A/C.

These boys were really nice to come over and help me bake in this abusive heat.

We teased Chuhan relentlessly while we all sweated and took our clothes off.

Then Clayton and I started talking about abuse.

Clayton had a few insightful things to say about it.

Clayton pointed out that people (in general) tend to receive about as much abuse as they invite.

For instance, he said, when he encounters a person who complains, whines or mopes, he says it automatically makes him act mean, or abusive.

I think there are exceptions.  People marry someone and don’t know they’re violent, or whatever.  But I couldn’t help but think that there’s a fundamental truth to Clayton’s philosophy.

We get the amount of abuse we invite.  Hm.

Kinda made me worry about a few friends I have that have a tendency to seek abusive relationships.

I mean, I know some beautiful, bright, talented young Gays that seem to want to date obnoxious emotionally (or physically) abusive dudes.

That’s a tricky space to put yourself in, over and over again…

Hey.  These mini-quiches turned out okay, after all.  Despite our ghetto baking techniques.  Good call, Chuhan!

More on the Salon soon!  Enjoy the Bacon, Collard, and Sharp Cheddar Quiche.

Salon Party

allison michael orenstein

Thin Skin Jonny, me, Robbie and Marcos got a bunch of artists together for tonight.  We’re having another Salon party.

kristen yoonsoo kim

It’s going to be fun.  Lots of comics, writers, singers, poets.  They’re all bringing food and drink.  They’re all going to perform a little.  It’s how poor art fags entertain themselves during a heat wave.

kyk

It starts at 8pm.  If you know me and you didn’t get invited, and you wanna come, please txt me.  I’ll send you the addy.

kyk

I’m making savory mini-quiche.

kyk

Come drop by.  We’ll tell jokes, read poems, sing songs, and eat pies I made.

Be good to see you there.

adam gardiner

ag

ag

HIV Test

Him:  I’m really scared.

Me:  You look good.  I hate to see you limping around like that.  How’s A.?

Him:  He’s getting better.  He says he’s healing pretty fast, which is putting him in a good mood.

Me:   He’s not angry with me, is he?

Him:  No.

Me:  I’m glad you two are okay.  Sideswiped, huh?

Him:  Yeah.  We were splayed all across the intersection, and the van that hit us on our scooter drove away.  It was a hit and run. 

Me:  I hate seeing you limp around like that.

Him:  My skin is dry and these huge scabs itch a lot.

Me:  Aw.  Pumpkin…   I’m glad you tested negative.  Why are my results taking so long?

Him:  They must’ve all went to lunch.

Me:  They drew our blood at the same time.  Why are my results taking 30 minutes longer?

Him:  I’m serious.  They went to lunch.

Me:  They’re waiting for a counselor.   If you have HIV they have to get you counseling on the spot.  That’s why my results are taking so long.  I’m positive.  I knew this wasn’t just a cold.  I had this sinus infection for a month.  It’s HIV.

Him:  Stop that.  You don’t know that.  You don’t know anything of the sort.  Just wait.

Me:  My pulse.

Him:  What’s going on?

Me:  It’s like I’m at the gym or swimming.  My pulse is racing.  I hate this.  I’m freaking out.  Okay.  It’s not the end of the world.

Him:  Things just change.  A little.  Not even a lot.  A little.

Me:  Your sex life changes a lot.

Him:  If you’re conscientious it does.

Me:  I’m conscientious.  Ugh.  I hate this.  I hate that it’s all Gay people here and that girl who looks like she’s just here with her Gay friend.

Him:  It’s a health clinic in Chelsea.

Me:  I hate having to do this every four months.  I hate squriming for an hour and a half.  Why don’t straight people have to do this?

Him:  They just don’t. 

Me:  I had a rash last week that wouldn’t go away.  I think it’s HIV.  I’ve been totally run down.  I don’t feel like myself the past few weeks.

Him:  Stop it.  You don’t know anything.

Me:  I love you.  You’re my friend and I love you.

Him:  I love you too.

(I start hyperventilating)

Him:  What’s the matter??

Me:  I don’t care.  I don’t care.  If I have this disease I DON’T CARE.  I’m never going to let straight people or even other Gay people make me feel ashamed about it.  Never.  If I have this disease it will make me more driven.  More powerful.  I won’t be ashamed of myself.  I won’t.

Him:  Okay.  Good.  Don’t.

Me:  They can’t make me take shame that I won’t accept.  I won’t be some victim.  I refuse to be the subject of anyone’s pity.  I refuse it.  It won’t work on me.

Him:  You need to calm down.  This is what I do.  I think about food.

Me:  What?

Him:  I think about snacks and what kind of food might be in this building.

Me:  Really?

Him:  Yeah.  I think about the phlebotomist and what kind of lunch she might have packed.

Me:  Mine was stony.  I bet she packed egg salad.

Him:   Yeah.  They’re stony.  Mine had a boyfriend die three days ago in a motorcycle accident.

Me:  Wow.  She must have been a ghost.

Him:  She said that she has to tell his parents.  His parents are out of the country right now and can’t be contacted. 

Me:  Horrible.  I was just thinking the other day how as life goes on and we get older, that we have worse and worse ‘jobs’ to do as people.  Break the news of someone’s death, for instance.

Him:  First your boyfriend dies, and then you have to tell his parents.

Me:  That makes me want to cry.

Him:  Me too.

Me:  I just hope that people get more sensitive to each other as they get older.

Him:  I think people are pretty sensitive. 

Me:  I do comedy.

Him:  Right.  Good luck with that.

Him:  NUMBER SEVENTY THREE!!!

Me:  That’s me.  Here goes nothing.  I love you, kiddo.

Him:  I love you too.

 

Happy Sunday, Folks

(Photo: Kristen Yoonsoo Kim)

Hey everyone.  Thanks for all the love and support the past week.  I had a bunch of shows I had to do and I didn’t get to write PIEFOLK as often as I’d have liked to.

Tonight Thin Skin Jonny is doing Margo Leitman and Giulia Rozzi’s Stripped Stories podcast at Sirius Radio.  We’re very excited.

You can search Stripped Stories on iTunes for more info.

(watercolor:  Lex Millena)

Here’s the other thing.  I’m trying an experiment.  I have a cousin named Anna who has a beautiful singing voice.  She’s very young and she lives in St. Louis.  I’m recording a song and posting it on the interwebs and she’s going to listen to the recording, look at the chords, and sing a cover of it that she posts on the interwebs.  You guys – stay tuned for this.  She is a star in the making.  Here’s what I mean:

Right?

Wow.

Right?

Right.

(my little brother Kazu contemplates a quiche we made)

Here’s the song I’m asking Anna to sing:

Please enjoy!

(photo:  Kristen Yoonsoo Kim)

FriDATE: Flashback

(photos by Jack Slomovits)

Sometimes people ask me on dates.  They see me online.  Maybe they think I’m the answer to their life’s problems, or loneliness.  Invariably, I prove them wrong:

Him:  It’s good to see you.  Surprising.

Me:  Yeah, I never come here

Him: Yeah.  That’s why I come here.

Me:  That’s a good reason.

Him: Well, it’s good to see you , in any case.  Let’s grab a drink and catch up?

Me:  I’m not drinking, but I’ll buy you one.

Him:  Okay.  I HAVE been drinking.  But it’s good to see you.   Man, I was crazy for a while, there, wasn’t I?

Me:  We were both crazy.  I was resistive to getting close and you… were…    we were both crazy.

Him:  I’ll take a gin and tonic

Me: A gin and tonic, please.

Him:  You were crazy.  You couldn’t commit.

Me:  Well I wasn’t that crazy, was I?  I didn’t read anyone’s email.

Him:  I knew you would bring that up.

Me:  You violated my privacy.

Him: You left it open.

Me: I left the house to buy an onion to add to the dinner I was making for you.

Him:  I see you’re cooking a lot.  I’m glad to see PIEFOLK is going well.

Me:  People are responding!  Thanks.  That’s nice of you to say.

Him:  Let’s go dance.

Me:  I don’t dance.

(even so…)

Him:  WANT YOU TO MAKE. ME . FEEL.  LIKE I’M THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD.  LIKE I’M THE ONLY ONE YOU’LL EVER LOVE!!!  I love Rihanna.  You never made me feel like this.  GIRL IN THE WORLD!!!

Me:  I never claimed I was going to make you feel like that.  Do you want to feel like Rihanna?

Him:  Yes.

Me:  Convienient.  I feel like slapping you.

Him:  Buy me another drink.

Me:  Do I have a choice?

(one hour later.  on the subway platform)

Me:  Wow.  That was aggressive…

Him:  What do you mean?

Me: You put me in a headlock, and ran me down the stairs toward the train tracks.

Him: One of these days I’m going to kill you.

Me:  Well not today.  I am going to walk to the other end of the platform.  It was good to see you.  I’m glad you’re dating someone new.

Him: You broke my heart.  I was always the heart breaker.

Me: I’m sorry about that.  I felt like I could never catch up.  You kept closing the gap as I choked and asked for space.  It was the wrong time for me.  I was really broken, back then.  I’m only now starting to like myself again.  But I’m glad I ran into you.  It seems like you want to be friends.

Him:  You fucking asshole.  I will NEVER be your friend!  That will NEVER HAPPEN.  You broke my heart.  I can’t be your friend.

Me:  Ironic, because I never asked you for more than a simple friendship.  Why does everyone want just one more handful than what they’re allowed?  If you really respected me, you would have listened to me when I said, don’t fall in love with me.

Him:  You worthless whore!

Me:  Oh god.  It’s a Gothic novel now?  Here?  On the subway platform? Just calm down.  We got through most of the evening already.  You’ve been drinking.

Him:  I had ten drinks.

Me: That’s a lot.  I had zero.

Him:  Why are you driven to be such a whore?  What’s wrong with you, that you couldn’t take a loving life with me.  Live together.  Raise child?

Me:  WE DATED FOR FIVE MONTHS.  Five months.  This is part of the problem.  You never stopped putting pressure.

Him:  You’re a selfish asshole.

Me:  No, actually.  You.   You’re an asshole.  We were nice to each other for about an hour and a half, and now you want to burn it to the ground.  That makes you the asshole.

Him:  You fucking slut.

Me:  You’re a drunk asshole!  You’re being a drunk asshole.

Him:  I’m not a drunk asshole.

Stranger:  You are.

(long pause)

Stranger:  Not a judgment, but you’re drunk.  Admit it.  You’re really drunk.

Him:  Get the fuck off of me.  You want to try to tell me what to do?  You stink?  What’s that on your breath?  M and M’s?  Disgusting.  Get out of my face.  I’ll destroy you.  I’ll smash you.

Me:  Knock it off.  Right.  Now.  You happy?  You impressed with yourself?  Did you belittle the man on the subway that was just trying to stick up for me??!  Are you proud that you threatened him?  That you threatened me?  I’m so impressed.  You’re right.  I totally should have bitten the bullet and moved in with you.  What a great future father for my child!!  Wow!  I really missed out!  Get on the FUCKING TRAIN.

Him:  What are you?  Taking a PICTURE?  Don’t you fucking blog me.

Surprise ending:  No break up sex.  Yes restraining order.

Just kidding about the restraining order.  Jerks.

Thin Skin Jonny

(featured photos by Adam Gardiner)

We’re doing it.  Finally.

After work-shopping and writing , and arguing and re-writing and cutting, and arguing and apologizing, and promoting editing and rehearsing, and arguing and getting all up in each others’ shit we have a show.

And we’re proud of that show.

It’s at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade Theater at 307 West 26th Street.  Saturday, at midnight.  Tickets are five dollars.

Subject matter includes:  abortion, sweat shops, psychic vampires, Four Loko abuse, gay porn addiction, zombies, Bea Arthur, and more…

Come watch as Daniel frets about his mother, Ari claims not to be Gay (yeah right, why else would she join a Gay band??), Marcos becomes more and more obsessed with vaginas, and I pursue a dubious relationship with an underage Korean boy (not Daniel – okay, it’s Daniel).

Your honor, I swear he told me he was 17.  What am I supposed to do?

Check I.D.s??

Joining us on the electric piano is Ari Scott.

Sexy Shameless McGreedy dances and plays clarinet.

The lovely Robbie Fowler plays trumpet, and has some tricks up his sleeve.

The whole shebang is directed by miss Pam Murphy.

Be nice to see you.  We’ll go out afterward and grab a drink.

You’re not being a good stalker if you don’t go, and you’ve been promising me for a long time to stalk me a little better.

Come share this with us, and we’ll go dancing…

How’s that sound?

Jerk.